


The Buddy System

by kethni



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Childbirth, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kethni/pseuds/kethni
Summary: 'That’s my mother’s name.’
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	The Buddy System

**Author's Note:**

> For CrazyMaryT

Ben needed some actual friends. Kent was tired of being roped into the space in Ben’s life that _should_ have been filled with someone who actually liked Ben. Someone who enjoyed spending time with him. Someone who liked drinking far too much and getting dragged from one den of iniquity to another as Ben by turns celebrated and mourned yet another imminent marriage.

Someone who would _volunteer_ to escort Ben’s heavily pregnant wife to her hospital appointment, rather than be bullied into agreeing purely for the prospect of peace while Ben was away.

He knew Joyce a little. The latest Mrs Cafferty had obtained her position by the time-honoured tradition of having an affair with Ben while he was married to the previous occupant. It was a peculiar kind of perpetual and inevitable karma. At least for the women. Kent was unsure if the apparently inexorable heart attack was punishment for Ben as well as the inevitable spur for the cycle to begin anew.

Joyce was, like all Ben’s previous romantic partners, a nurse of Asian extraction. It was an oddly specific type, but one which Ben seemed to have no problem locating. She was also extremely voluble. That wasn’t a common thread as far as Kent had noticed. He had picked her up to take her to her appointment with the OGBYN and she hadn’t stopped talking since she’d opened the door.

‘I suppose it probably seems like I’m worrying too much,’ she said, as he parked the car. ‘But I’d given up on having kids and now here I am with my first and every time I have a conversation with anyone in the health care field, they make sure to tell me that I’m an older mom and that carries risks.’

Kent tried to think back to what she’d actually been saying. He had been less listening and more faintly scanning for indicators that a response would be required. There hadn’t been many of those. He got the distinct impression that Joyce was rather starved for human company.

‘My sister had her first child when she was forty-three,’ he said.

‘She did?’ Joyce’s eyes widened. ‘Was everything okay?’

‘Becoming pregnant was difficult both times,’ he said. ‘But the births were fine, and the children have no health issues.’

She unclipped her seatbelt as she turned to face him. ‘But the risk of problems is higher.’

Kent took a breath. Regular people always seemed to find this entire segment of mathematics difficult to parse.

‘Higher, yes,’ he said, ‘but not _high_. However, it is important not to focus on the headline increase, the percentage by which the risk has increased, but on the overall risk. For example, to pluck a number from the air, a twenty percent increase in risk does _not_ mean that there is a twenty percent chance of the risk happening. It means that the level of risk has risen from the background risk. For example, it may have risen from say a 1 percent chance to a 1.2 percent chance.’

Joyce’s mouth was a perfect circle.

‘You appear confused by the concept,’ he said with a sigh.

She shook her head. ‘No. I just never thought about it that way.’

Kent got out of the car and came around to open her door. Joyce had told him, amid the flood of talk, that she was eight months pregnant. To Kent’s relatively inexperienced eye she did not appear to be showing a great deal, although she certainly moved with the discomfort and odd balance he associated with the heavily pregnant.

‘Ally oop,’ she said, grabbing his arm and using it to lever herself up. ‘Ben already has kids already, so he’s completely blasé about the whole thing.’

Kent restrained himself from suggesting that Ben was likely blasé about the birth of his firstborn as well. Families appeared to be something that simply aggregated around Ben. Affairs happened. Divorces happened. Marriages happened. Children happened. All without much in the way of conscious choice or planning. For someone like Kent it was acutely irritating.

‘Does he already have a daughter?’ Kent asked.

‘Oh, we don’t know the sex,’ Joyce said.

Kent looked at her blankly. ‘She’s a girl.’

‘Um, okay.’

He escorted Joyce into the hospital and left her in the waiting room, while he went in search of a vending machine. Anything purchased would doubtless be borderline unpotable, nonetheless he was in need of a caffeine boost, and it would allow Joyce some time to compose herself for her appointment.

Kent was of an age now where health scares were no longer a distant prospect. Joyce was somewhat younger, however, and clearly less familiar with the fears of bodily treachery. After a while it ceased to be shocking and instead slid into a kind of grinding, low level unhappiness. Kent was generally in good health, particularly for a man his age and a job this stressful, however he had his ongoing concerns as did anyone else. It would be quite some time before Joyce came to terms with her own inevitable physical collapse. He supposed that, to her it probably felt wildly at odds with her current pregnancy.

His coffee was scorched but had a strong caffeine kick that stamped down his spine with heavy boots on. He was in a much better mood as he returned to the waiting area. There was no sign of Joyce. He sat down and texted Ben to let him know. Ben hadn’t asked to be kept in the loop. He probably hadn’t thought about Joyce all day. None the less, the fact that Ben took other people for granted didn’t mean that Kent should tacitly approve of it.

A nurse stepped into the waiting room and scanned the room. ‘Kent Davison?’

Kent frowned. ‘Yes, is something wrong?’

Nurses always looked harried. This one also looked worried. ‘Come this way please.’

***

‘She’s not due for another month,’ Kent protested as he was whisked into a small room where Joyce was sat crying quietly.

‘This can’t wait,’ the nurse said. ‘We’re inducing her now. If you’re quick you should be able to get what she needs from home and be back before the birth.’

Joyce caught Kent’s hand. ‘Can Ben come back?’

Kent shook his head. ‘Not in time. I’m sorry.’ He licked his lips. ‘I’ll let him know what’s happening. Do you have a bag ready at home?’

‘Don’t leave me here,’ she begged. 

Kent looked at her frightened and unhappy expression. He sighed. ‘I’ll call the office. We’ll have someone else go pick up your things.’

***

Jonah looked around with interest as he handed over Joyce’s bag. ‘I’ve never seen someone give birth. My mom said a caesarean section means that the vag doesn’t get all stretched out.’

‘You’re not about to see one now,’ Kent said sharply. ‘And I am not even interacting with nightmarish statement. You gave Mr Cafferty a full briefing of the situation?’

‘Totally,’ Jonah said. ‘I left a really detailed message.’

Kent narrowed his eyes. ‘A message.’

‘Uh… uh… I will keep trying to get him on the phone, Sir,’ Jonah said. 

Kent flapped his hands. ‘Leave,’ he said.

The door was opened, and a nurse stuck her head into the room. ‘We’re ready.’

‘Is there no possible way to delay until Mr Cafferty can make his way here?’ Kent asked.

She stared at him blankly. ‘No.’ 

Kent had come to politics relatively late in his career and, frankly, it had been a somewhat steep learning curve. The number of things that he had been asked to do that seemed entirely past _anyone’s_ job description was ludicrous. He would, however, be hard pressed to name one of them that exceeded this.

Joyce squeezed his hand. ‘Ben’s on his way?’ she panted.

‘He’ll be here soon,’ Kent said. Lied. He didn’t like lying in his private life, if this counted as his private life, but there were some lies that were far more moral than the truth.

She smiled but it was wavering. ‘He’s not coming, is he?’

Kent sighed. ‘We’ve left messages, but we haven’t managed to speak to him directly yet. We will.’

Joyce looked up at the ceiling. Her face twisted as she swore in Mandarin. ‘I want a c-section!’

‘We’re not quite there yet,’ the doctor.

Joyce growled. ‘ _I am there_.’

***

Under other circumstances it would have been fascinating to observe the ebb and flow of the delivery room.

Under _these_ circumstances he was thirsty, footsore, exhausted, and utterly traumatised.

The baby, tiny, squat, _utterly filthy_ with vernix and blood, and covered in downy hair was rushed away.

Joyce clutched his hand, wordless and sobbing. Kent clasped her hand between his.

‘We need to take Mrs Cafferty through to clean her up,’ a nurse said.

Kent almost growled as he looked at her over his shoulder. ‘Could you _perhaps_ tell her what the hell is happening with her daughter?’

She held up her hands. ‘The baby isn’t breathing but we’re on it.’

‘Where’s Ben?’ Joyce whispered.

Kent turned to her. ‘He’ll be here. If I have to drag him here by the hair he’ll be here.’

***

Someone shook Kent by the shoulder.

‘Hey,’ Amy Brookheimer said.

Kent straightened up. He checked his watch.

‘It’s just after nine,’ Amy said. ‘Where’s Ben? I need to talk to him.’

Kent stood up and buttoned up his collar. ‘I must have fallen asleep,’ he said. ‘If Ben is here then I presume he’s with his wife. She _has_ just given birth.’

Amy pulled a face. ‘He was dropped off her twenty minutes ago.’

‘Good,’ Kent said. ‘Then I can leave. I suppose I should be unsurprised he didn’t bother to wake me.’

‘The vice president needs an urgent discussion with him,’ Amy said.

Kent shrugged. ‘I am unclear what you expect me to do about it.’ He headed to the door. As he reached it, Ben shoved it open and walked in.

‘Oh,’ Amy said, taking a step back. ‘Oh no.’

‘Look at her,’ Ben said, shoving the baby towards Kent.

‘She certainly appears to be… an infant,’ Kent said. ‘I assume that she’s in good health.’

‘She’s perfect,’ Ben said.

Amy cleared her throat. ‘This has been fascinating but I need to talk to –’

‘Fuck off, Amy,’ Ben said, stroking the baby’s head. ‘No offence.’

She shrugged. ‘None taken.’

‘We’re calling her Moira,’ Ben said.

Kent blinked. ‘That’s my mother’s name.’

‘That’s the point jackoff,’ Ben said. ‘You know. Thanks.’ He walked back to the door. ‘Don’t let it go to your head.’

‘I’ll try not to get overexcited,’ Kent promised.

The End


End file.
